


Let's Start a Nuclear War

by outtogarden



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred Thinks He's Straight, Alternate Universe - Human, Arthur is a Little Minx, Bottom Arthur, Dirty Dancing, Gay Bar, Gay Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 04:32:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2095881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outtogarden/pseuds/outtogarden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred F. Jones is a straight man. This is a fact he has always known and been able to rely on. So when his best friend drags him to a gay bar, he certainly isn't attracted to the blonde guy across the room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Start a Nuclear War

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this was inspired by the "Let Me Take You to a Gay Bar" song. Also, I felt like writing porn.
> 
> Enjoy!

There were three things Alfred F. Jones was completely sure about. These things were the fundamental constants in his life and whenever things seemed confusing or worrisome, he would remind himself that at least he could count on those three things to never change. Ever.

The first was that aliens existed. Sure, he had never actually seen a real, live alien, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there. Everyone who disagreed with him was obviously just being too narrow-minded and he swore up and down that when he was six years old, he had seen a UFO flying across the sky (it _wasn’t_ a shooting star, dammit!). 

The second was that America was the greatest country in the entire fucking world. What other country could be so diverse, so awesome, _so free?_ He had all the liberty he could ever want, be anybody he wanted, and live in any kind of climate because America had it all. Land of the free, home of the brave, baby! 

The third was that he was straight. He knew from an early age that he loved boobs when he stole his father’s Playboy magazine right out from under his parents’ mattress and flicked through it out of curiosity. He loved a girl’s soft curves and long hair and well-groomed nails with paint and their pretty, full lips. Yes, Alfred F. Jones was a straight man, fresh out of college, and so he found himself rather hesitant when his best friend, who happened to be gay, insisted that he accompany him to a gay bar.

“Dude, it would be weird for me to go! Only gays and straight girls go to gay bars!” Alfred immediately protested.

“Exactly!” Francis enthused. “My dear, think of all the fun, open-minded girls you can meet! Plus, you’re right, not a lot of straight guys go to gay bars, so you won’t have a lot of competition. It’s a winning situation for us both.” 

“I don’t know, dude, what if guys try hitting on me? That would just be awkward.”

“Come on, I promise I’ll be right beside you the entire time. Any man that attempts to hit on you will immediately be distracted by me,” Francis said with a wink. “Besides, that’s just a stereotype. You’ll be fine!”

Alfred rolled his eyes, wondering, not for the first time, why he hung out with the Frenchman. “Okay, but just this once! And when we get there, you’re totally buying me as many drinks as I want.”

“Deal!” Francis cheered. 

Later that night, his expectations of scantily clad men dancing around poles and aggressively flirty people were, in fact, not met. He had heard rumors of the gay bars in common spring break locations where things would get rowdy, but the building he entered with Francis was nothing like the stories. Sure, there was loud music and people getting drunk and dancing, but what proper bar of any kind didn’t have those things? Where was the rainbow painting on the walls and why weren’t there men having sex on every available surface? It looked like every other bar or club he had ever been to and he was so thoroughly shocked by that fact that he didn’t even notice when Francis dragged him over to the bar and shoved a drink in his hand. 

“Not what you expected?” Francis asked with a smirk. 

“You can say that again,” Alfred confirmed, looking around the place with wonder. It was just so… _normal._ There seemed to be a pretty even mixture of men and women and in some cases, he thought it was pretty obvious which were gay and which were there just for the novelty, but he knew from past experience that a lot of the girls that ‘looked’ straight could very well still be lesbians.

“Hey, how am I supposed to tell which girls I can hit on?” Alfred asked as he leaned towards his friend to be heard over the music. Some techno dance song was playing, creating a lively, infectious atmosphere. 

“You can hit on all of them, I suppose,” Francis mused, “and if they hit back, you’re in luck.” 

Not a second after Francis finished speaking, a man came up to the bar and leaned against the spot next to theirs. He could see Francis begin to eye him and turned his attention to the female population, easily finding those of his type scattered around the room. There was a blonde with dark lipstick talking to a redhead that could either be her friend or her girlfriend near the wall adjacent to the bar and there were a couple lookers that appeared to be dancing by themselves in expectation of someone to join them. Downing the rest of his drink, he went to make a move.

“Hey, Francis, I’m going to dance,” he informed, knowing that Francis was too wrapped up in the attractive man to actually hear anything he said.

As he made his way across the room towards one of the attractive women, something in his peripheral vision made him glance over. It was almost a reflex; something he could do a hundred times a day and never give it a second thought. However, this time when he glanced to the side, what he saw was something he would never be able to forget. 

In the middle of the room was a man, dancing to the song with a wild abandon that screamed out “I don’t give a fuck what you think about me” and yet he still managed to be graceful and sexy. Alfred thought he heard a gasp (was it from him?) and felt as if hot liquid flashed through his body, rooting him to the spot and disallowing him from looking away from the man. In the low lighting, Alfred could make out blonde hair and tight pants that wrapped around long legs that flexed and twisted with each movement. Alfred was struck with the urge to _know_ the man, to get closer and make out more of the features that composed a face that looked irresistible even from where Alfred was standing. 

Alfred coughed in a pathetic attempt to force air back into his lungs (how had he not realized that he wasn’t breathing?) and wrenched his line of vision back to the girl he had been approaching. She was still there, bopping her hips around in a way Alfred suddenly found clumsy and unappealing, obviously waiting for someone to join her. Like they were born for the job, Alfred’s eyes darted back to the man, who had his hands up and was twisting around his upper body like a sultry invitation. 

Unconsciously, Alfred shivered. What the hell was wrong with him? It wasn’t like he found men attractive, so what was up with his strange reaction to this man? Reasoning that he was probably just interested in the man’s slim figure since it was rather feminine, Alfred turned abruptly away and went to keep the lonely woman company. 

“Hey there,” Alfred shouted over the music as he got within hearing range. The woman turned to look at him, offering a friendly smile, and continued to move her waist back and forth. She had obviously been dancing for some time, as a light sheen of sweat coated her exposed skin and tousled her hairstyle. With a full figure and bright eyes, she was exactly the kind of girl he would normally be attracted to, but for some reason he wasn’t feeling up to his usual level of libido.

“Hi,” she replied. Alfred crowded close to her and began his own awkward attempt at dance, hoping that she would find it attractive. He shook his arms to the side and swayed his hips, picking out the rhythm to the song and doing his best to follow it. The girl smiled at him, but he couldn’t help but think that it was slightly forced.

“So, like, are you a lesbian?” Alfred asked after a moment, thinking it was best to cut right to the chase. The woman’s dancing faltered and she shot him a mildly offended look.

“That’s quite the question to open a conversation,” she remarked dryly, already casting her glance around the room in search of a new dance partner.

Alfred laughed unabashedly. “Yeah, well, I need to know if I’m wasting my time or not.”

“You’re kind of an asshole,” the woman said bluntly. Alfred barely had the time to think of a response before she was walking away and he was being left alone. Okay, so that probably wasn’t the greatest method he had ever used to pick up a girl before, but he really didn’t know what else to say. He was usually pretty smooth with the ladies and his game was suddenly being thrown off by some unknown variable. Feeling rather dejected, Alfred headed back over to Francis, who was still lounging and talking to the same guy by the bar, not noticing a pair of vivid green eyes following him.

“This is hard,” Alfred complained as soon as he had rejoined his friend and ordered another drink. Francis looked away momentarily from the guy he was chatting up to shoot him a skeptical look.

“I only saw you talking to one girl,” he commented, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, well…it didn’t go well.”

“Just try again with someone else,” Francis advised, already losing interest. “It’s not like you’ve never been rejected before.”

Alfred glared into his glass as his friend went back to his flirtations. Now what? Alfred’s eyes reassessed the bar as he nursed his drink. His last approach had obviously been too forward, so he needed to think of something else. Maybe he should just flirt like he normally would? 

“Hello there,” an accented voice crooned. Alfred started, not having realized that he had zoned out while contemplating his next move. As his gaze snapped towards whoever had spoken, he suddenly felt his face heat up and his eyes widen upon realizing that it was the man he had seen before. Up close, he was even more fascinating and Alfred found himself having trouble taking in everything at once. _Wow_ … The man’s golden hair was slightly sweaty and ruffled from the dancing, framing pale, angular cheekbones embedded into flawless skin. Dark emerald eyes stared up at him through thick eyelashes that fluttered each time he blinked and made Alfred feel slightly dizzy. Um…what was he supposed to say again?

“Jesus,” was the first word Alfred managed to utter. Something strange was happening to him and he wasn’t at all sure if he liked it.

“Actually, it’s Arthur,” the man said with a smirk, his accent making Alfred’s head spin, “but I suppose you can call me whatever you like since you’re such a cutie.” 

Alfred seriously considered walking away at that point, not because what Arthur said had creeped him out, but because he was too overwhelmed by what was happening. It was as if every word he had ever learned had decided to take a vacation at the same time and he was left staring like a complete idiot, continuing to absorb Arthur’s features. What was up with his nose? Alfred had never really given noses much thought before; they were just sort of _there_. However, Arthur’s was so triangular and petite and _adorable_ —

“Are you alright?” Arthur asked, thick brows drawing together in concern. “You look like you’re about to hurl.”

“I’m great!” Alfred said too quickly, chasing his words with a large gulp of his alcohol and praying that it would neutralize his brain’s sudden ban on coherent thought. “My name’s Alfred.”

“How about you come and dance with me then, Alfred?”

“I’m straight,” Alfred blurted, because it was a fact he had always known and other alternatives were being presented to him at a speed that was much too fast for him to analyze. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Francis looking between him and Arthur in amusement. That bastard.

“Is that so?” Arthur inquired as if he didn’t believe him. “Relax, I’m only asking you to dance, not marry me. It’ll be fun.”

Before Alfred could decline and go back to functioning like a normal human being, his wrist was being grabbed and he was being dragged away from the bar. Barely having the time to quickly slam his drink down, he did his best to not trip over himself. Arthur brought him to the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by a mass of squirming bodies. Arthur’s hands were on him instantly, bringing their bodies close together and Alfred frantically tried to blame his flush on the rising temperature in the room. 

He glanced around awkwardly, wondering if anyone assumed he was interested in Arthur _that_ way and had the sudden urge to defend his sexuality. _Boobs, boobs, boobs_ , he thought to himself as Arthur brushed against his groin. The lean man spun around so that his back was to Alfred and threw a smirk over his shoulder, gyrating to the grind of the music. Alfred inhaled sharply and followed it with a small cough, unsure of what exactly he should do with his hands. Had it been a girl he was dancing with, he wouldn’t have hesitated to grab at her waist and close the space between them, but he knew Arthur was just toying with him and he refused to give in so easily. 

The song changed and an almost identical beat blasted throughout the bar. Arthur took that as his cue to turn back around and press himself close, looking up at Alfred through his thick eyelashes. Alfred felt his blood ignite.

“So straight boy,” Arthur began lowly, “what brings you here tonight?”

“Um—I’m…My friend dragged me here,” Alfred replied, clumsy with his words while distracted by the way Arthur’s hands were raking down his arms. 

“Oh?” Arthur practically purred, draping his arms around Alfred’s neck and leaving no more than two inches of space between their faces. Alfred wanted to shove him away, to stop the way he was feeling, but he found that he couldn’t. He knew he was definitely blushing and to his horror, his face was being generous enough to share a sizeable portion of his blood with his crotch. 

_What the hell is wrong with me?_ He tried to turn his face to the side—staring into Arthur’s dark eyes was killing him—but then his chin brushed against the man’s soft hair and somehow that was equally arousing. Arthur laughed, a deep, bubbling sound spilling from the bow-shape of his bottom lip and the curviness of its top.

“Having some troubles?” Arthur taunted, forcing their hips together so that there was no doubt in Alfred’s mind about what Arthur was speaking of. “I would invite you back to my place, but since you are so completely straight you surely wouldn’t be interested in that.”

Alfred gritted his teeth, staring determinedly at a cluster of girls that had just sprouted through the entrance to the bar. “You’re right.”

Arthur laughed again, obviously having been expecting that response. The dancing they were doing had evolved, Alfred having lost control over his brain-to-limb coordination around the time that Arthur decided to use him as a personal pole to dance on. Unexpectedly, Alfred felt hot lips press against his neck and heard, even over the loud throb of the music, Arthur’s whispered words.

“You know, everyone has to experiment. It’ll feel so good and nobody else has to know.”

Alfred’s throat went dry and he swallowed uselessly as Arthur began to mouth at his pulse point. He moaned in the back of his throat and brought his hands up to clasp Arthur’s shoulders in an attempt to push him away (to draw him closer). No, no he couldn’t be enjoying what Arthur was doing to him. Alfred F. Jones was a straight man and he hadn’t wanted the blond currently clinging to him from the moment he laid eyes on him. Sure, Arthur could dance and he was seductive as hell, but it wasn’t working on Alfred because Alfred _only liked women._

Arthur’s hands dropped from his neck to clutch at his hips and draw them towards his own (not that there had really been much space between them anyway). Alfred groaned because he would be lying through his teeth if he said that he wasn’t hard and _damn_ did Arthur feel good against him. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to experiment a little…? 

He hadn’t had nearly enough to drink for his judgment to be clouding as it was.

“You want me,” Arthur pressed. “It’s okay. Let’s get out of here. It’ll feel so good, Alfred.”

He must have nodded, because the next thing he knew Arthur’s hand was holding his and he was once again being dragged across the bar, except this time they were headed towards the entrance. He glanced one last time towards Francis, but his friend was still paying far too close attention to the man from earlier to notice what was happening to Alfred.

_So much for looking out for me_ , Alfred thought, but there was no trace of bitterness as he couldn’t really summon any sort of hard feelings when Francis’ negligence was allowing him to be led away by Arthur.

He fell into a stupor on the journey between the bar and what he assumed to be Arthur’s apartment, but he could vaguely recall being pulled along into a taxi and a weight settling itself onto his lap—probably Arthur himself—and hands roving over his chest. It was _nice_.

As soon as they walked through the door, Arthur instructed him to remove his shoes and regarded him with rapt attention. He seemed as if he was waiting for Alfred to make the first move, but Alfred’s mind was far too busy sorting out its confusion on exactly what the hell he thought he was doing because surely Alfred wasn’t attracted to this man. His erection was because _of course_ he had gotten hard with a warm body grinding against him. Never mind the fact that it still persisted despite no longer having a stimulus. 

Alfred must have had a desperate, muddled look in his eye, for Arthur took pity on him and walked forward until their chests just barely touched. Alfred felt _something_ within him tingle at every step Arthur took and then his vision narrowed to include only the various shades of green in Arthur’s eyes. 

“You’ll never want to be with another woman again after this, I swear it,” Arthur said lowly, fervently. Alfred saw Arthur angling his face closer and he had time to feel a brief moment of panic, a shout of ‘too late to back out now’, before he was being kissed. He snapped.

Denial fled his mind as he shoved Arthur against the nearest wall and kissed him like he had been wanting to do and resolved to fuck now, feel confused later. He kissed lips that were not soft and full like he was used to, but slightly thinner and a little chapped and _he liked it_. Hands came up to grasp his shoulders and were in no way meek and submissive and _he liked it_. He rolled his hips and felt an erection prod against his own and _he fucking loved it_.

While Arthur’s nimble fingers tore at the buttons on his shirt, Alfred nipped at Arthur’s lower lip and took advantage of the subsequent gasp to slip in his tongue and taste the back of Arthur’s teeth. Alfred picked up the flavor of some type of alcohol he was in no state to identify and let the issue rest in favor of tangling their tongues together (he refused to believe it was _him_ that had just moaned like that). 

He pressed their bodies flush against each other because he _could_ since their flat chests fit so perfectly and took Arthur’s hips in a bruising grip to grind them with his, taking satisfaction in the surprised keen the smaller man made.

“Bedroom,” Arthur commanded breathily. _“Now.”_

Alfred nodded and relinquished his hold to trail after Arthur through the apartment, barely taking notice of any of his surroundings. He was far too busy with shedding his clothing as he walked and watching Arthur do the same, even throwing down his glasses at one point with no regard for where they landed. He followed along and then suddenly Arthur was spinning around and pulling him down onto a bed in only his boxers. He hovered above the other man with a hint of uncertainty, wondering if there was some special etiquette for gay sex he had never heard of or it if was okay to resume kissing Arthur and hopefully taking off their underwear.

“Let me guess,” Arthur said airily, “you want to top.”

The question nearly froze Alfred’s brain processes and he had to scramble to remember conversations with Francis where his friend had mentioned such things. Topping…that was the person that did the fucking, right? His inner thighs trembled with the very thought. The sight of Arthur sprawled out underneath him with his hair mussed around his head further enticed him and he realized that yes, he very much so did want to fuck this man. _Fuck now, think later._

“I feel like topping is less gay,” he said to appear rational, hiding how much he _wanted._

“The hell?” Arthur scoffed, his eyebrows twisting. “Don’t you think shoving your dick up another man’s ass is pretty gay, too?”

Alfred blushed and tilted his face away. “Well, when you put it like that…” 

Arthur sighed and propped himself up using his elbows, gesturing with his head towards to nightstand to their left. “Alright, well if we’re going to do this, reach into that drawer and get out a condom and the bottle of lube.”

Alfred felt saliva get stuck in his throat during his attempt to swallow, but did as the man said. Somehow, the mention of lube more than anything else was putting the whole situation into perspective for him. He didn’t use lube when he slept with women; he didn’t have a need for it. But this was a _man_ and if he really went through with this, did that automatically mean he wasn’t straight? He was about to have gay sex with a stranger, so that must mean—no. He was going to fuck now, figure things out later. 

He turned back to Arthur with the objects in his hand and placed them on the empty space of the bed beside them in order to have both hands to further explore Arthur’s body. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to do with the lube and to hide that fact he flew, a little desperately, back to Arthur’s lips and massaged them with his own. Arthur made a semi-startled noise, but quickly acclimated to the change in events and kissed him back with fervor as his hands raked along Alfred’s shoulders and tangled sinfully in his hair. Arthur was so much bolder than what Alfred was used to and when Alfred tried to part his lips and thrust his tongue forward, he was met with fierce resistance and soon found this it was _his_ mouth receiving the tongue-fucking. _He liked it_. 

He was so focused on the mind-blowing sensations occurring in his mouth that he didn’t even notice when a warm hand sneaked down his body and reached into his underwear. His entire body shuddered when foreign fingers wrapped themselves around his cock and squeezed before lazily making their way up from the base to the head. 

“Let’s get to it, shall we?” Arthur whispered against his mouth. Alfred had absolutely no objections and drew back to whip of the last remnant of Arthur’s clothing as Arthur did the same to him. He fought the urge to feel shy when he was at last fully naked in front of the other and instead put his energies into inspecting the body in front of him. 

He didn’t voice it out loud because he didn’t know if Arthur would appreciate hearing it, but Arthur really was kind of beautiful. His pale, creamy skin stood out against the darkness of the room and practically begged to be marked. Long, lean legs were spread to reveal his erection and Alfred could partially see Arthur’s perky ass. He knew that if he spread those cheeks just a little bit more, he would be able to see Arthur’s entrance and he acknowledged, at least to himself, his desire to touch him there.

“I’ll prepare myself. It’ll be faster,” Arthur said as he reached his hand out for the lube bottle still abandoned on the bed next to them. Alfred was struck with a strange disappointment and immediately protested.

“But I wanna—”

“Next time,” Arthur cut him off and Alfred didn’t even have the time to consider the implications of that statement before he was being shoved backwards. Arthur rose onto his knees and popped open the cap of the lube. Alfred watched with rapt attention as Arthur squirted some of the substance onto his fingers and rubbed it around, presumably warming it up. Just like that, Arthur’s hand was reaching behind himself and then it was out of Alfred’s sight, but he had a pretty good idea of what it was doing. Arthur’s other hand came up to steady himself on Alfred’s shoulder, lending him balance as he worked himself open.

Alfred leaned forward to press his face into a silky neck and began biting down and kissing and licking to leave marks. Every time he drew back slightly to switch sides, he caught a glimpse of Arthur’s face: eyes twisted tightly shut, mouth hanging slightly open, apple red staining his cheekbones. Arthur’s skin tasted salty from the sweat that lingered there after the dance in the bar and in some places he fancied he could make out a faint hint of vanilla. At one point, when Alfred was starting to get slightly impatient, Arthur yanked him by his hair away from his neck and leaned against him. He could hear the soft, rhythmic squelching sounds of the preparation and when Arthur moaned harshly against his neck, Alfred felt so aroused knowing that Arthur was pleasuring himself that he nearly toppled them backwards and shoved himself in regardless of whether or not Arthur was ready for him. 

After a time (Alfred had no idea how long, only that it had been _too_ long), Arthur pulled away from him and flopped back down onto the mattress. Eager hands, now free, grabbed him maneuvered them so that Alfred kneeled with arms bracing him up on either side of Arthur’s head. Arthur hitched his legs up to rest them on Alfred’s shoulders and Alfred was surprised by how soft the hair on them felt against his skin. 

“Pour some on your cock first,” Arthur instructed as he picked the lube back up and passed it to Alfred. “And don’t forget the condom.” He wanted to whine in impatience, but managed to refrain in favor of doing as he was told. The condom packet was still sitting on the bed and Alfred grabbed it and tore at it blindly with his teeth until he was able to pull out the contents and roll it onto his penis. The lube was still in one hand and he let out a hiss as his own hand quickly spread it and he wasn’t quite ready to admit that it had felt much better when Arthur had touched him, however brief it had been. He almost sobbed when he was finally ready and then he was guiding himself into Arthur and _holy god_ —

“Fuckfuckfuck,” Alfred chanted in ecstasy. Why had nobody ever told him how _tight_ and _hot_ it would be? Francis went on about sex enough, but he had neglected to mention that wonderful detail. It felt so perfect and before he could stop himself, he was pulling out only to slam back in deliciously. The skin of Arthur’s ass felt almost cool against Alfred’s heated thighs and he realized he must have looked like an animal in heat with the way he furiously pumped his hips to maximize the already dizzying pleasure, but Arthur didn’t seem to mind the fast start and instead welcomed it by meeting Alfred’s thrusts and tipping his head back against the pillow. Alfred was pleased to see the hickeys he had left being exposed by the action and leaned forward to administer some more.

“Unfff…t-told you,” Arthur mumbled out. Alfred raised his line of vision to admire the way Arthur’s head was forced upwards with each thrust and his hair bounced. He had the man bent nearly in half, but it didn’t surprise him that Arthur was so flexible after witnessing the way he could dance.

“Told me—what?” Alfred asked curiously, not sure if he would even understand what Arthur was talking about even if Arthur answered his question. He wasn’t exactly in any condition for focusing or coherent conversation. 

“That this would feeeel ahh!” Arthur moaned, losing his thread of speech. His arms tightened around Alfred’s neck and one of his legs slipped off Alfred’s shoulder. To compensate, Alfred caught it in the crook of his elbow and used it as leverage to force Arthur’s legs apart slightly further, giving him a better angle for fucking the smaller man as hard as he possibly could. It seemed to be working, as Arthur didn’t try to finish his sentence.

Alfred almost wished he could witness what they looked like from an outside perspective. He knew it would have been an incredibly erotic sight: their bodies slick with sweat, faces red from the exertion. He could feel Arthur’s hot breath against his skin as he panted and occasionally, they would lock pleasure-hazed eyes. Somehow, those moments were Alfred’s favorite.

“Arthur!” he couldn’t help but gasp sharply on a particularly powerful spike of pleasure. The man in question tightened his grip on Alfred’s hair in response and Alfred imagined him smirking in victory if he had been able. That did it; he wouldn’t be able to pretend that he had been imagining himself with a woman. He probably should have been marveling over ‘Wow, I can’t believe I’m having sex with a man’, but all he could think was ‘Wow, I’m having sex with _Arthur_ ’. Arthur. Arthur the alluring, Arthur the mysterious. Arthur, the man that danced like a swirling vortex of seduction and kissed like the son of Aphrodite.

God, he was so close. The bed was rattling, their moans and gasps and pants filled the room. If he was honest with himself, he had never felt more amazing in his entire life. His mouth hung open, his eyes were scrunched shut, and with a great deal of effort he wrenched them open, unwilling to waste the opportunity to see Arthur’s expression. Unexpectedly, his gaze was returned and for one absurd moment as he felt himself shatter with Arthur’s body held tightly to him, he was positive that green was the color of love.

Unsurprisingly, things were a little awkward the next morning. 

The first thing that Alfred learned about Arthur that didn’t involve sex or seduction was that Arthur was really quite stodgy. His “night out” persona that Alfred had become acquainted with the night before was really just for fun and normally the Brit was irritable, uptight, and somewhat demanding. Alfred was shocked when he realized that he liked it.

He was slightly less shocked when he ended up in bed with Arthur again and their silly experiment of a one night stand turned into many more and before he knew it, he was introducing Arthur to his friends and family as his boyfriend. He was a little bit irritated when absolutely none of them were surprised. After some serious discussion and research, he decided to call off the search for a new label for his sexuality and simply accepted that it was what it was and even if he wasn’t as straight as he had always thought, he was just fine with that.

At least he could still hold on to his belief in America and aliens.


End file.
